The Halls Are Certainly Drafty This Time of Year
by Blanco Pagina
Summary: #1 Winter fic: James/Lily - During rounds Lily and James "discuss" the pros/cons of cold corridors/broom cupboards at Hogwarts.


_The Halls Are Certainly Drafty This Time of Year…_

It's totally not my fault.

I mean, you might THINK it's my fault, but it's not. At all. I'm completely innocent and if anyone asks I was influenced by otherworldly things and had no control over my actions whatsoever.

I don't know how I ended up in a broom closet.

See, usually people know how they end up in such places. Usually I would too. Typically when I walk into a random broom closet I am aware of when I turn the knob, and when I open the door, and when I walk in, and why I (most of the time) turn on the light. But this time? Nah. I guess my brain just decided to completely forget how I went from the other side of the corridor to the floor of the broom closet with the lights turned off.

But it gets even better!

I know you guys are now wondering how this could possibly improve. After all, I lost my memory already, AND I ended up on the dusty, grimy bottom of a random closet in the middle of an abandoned corridor. It just couldn't get any better. But it does!

See, the thing is, I'm on the floor of that dirty, gross, disgusting, abandoned broom closet in that random, creepy corridor that I don't even know why I went down with POTTER. Potter being JAMES Potter, as in James Potter the arse that I look upon with contempt every time I even glance in his general direction.

That James Potter. The James Potter that I hate. And I ended up in a broom closet with him.

Well, now that I'm thinking about it, the process is coming back to me. I recall some sort of conversing between us several minutes ago. About twenty, I believe. (Twenty minutes, that is. Third of an hour? Ten times two? Yeah, twenty. TWENTY MINUTES. Think. About. That.)

We were talking about the weather. Kind of ironic, actually. And what we were doing for the holidays. I commented, I believe, on how cold it was getting in the hallways and how grateful I was of it because now students wouldn't be snogging in the hallways for fear of the draft.

To which James, of course, had to respond with, "Oh, so you think that people just don't snog in the winter?" Accompanied, of course, with a raised eyebrow and that famous smirk. And the hair ruffle. Oh, that damn hair ruffle…

Then, obviously, I had to retaliate. "Not necessarily. I'm just saying they don't really like to stray about in abandoned hallways because of the cold." I folded my arms to match his.

"Have you ever snogged someone in an abandoned hallway before?" He asked.

"Of course!" I snorted.

"Really, now? Who with?"

Ahh, that bloody smirk! I'm sick of it!

"With plenty of people! In case you haven't noticed, _Potter_, I'm very popular!" I huffed.

"Oh, so you _don't_ yell insults at any and everyone that bothers to ask you out? Fascinating." Then he formed his hands into the Adonis position – left arm crossed over the chest with the other at his chin, as if to stroke a nonexistent beard.

"No, I don't. That's just you, you arrogant toad. I don't loathe anyone else as much as I loathe you." I was kind of losing fire in this argument, so I tried to change the subject. "It doesn't matter anyway. I could go out with plenty of people, no matter how horrid I am sometimes to you. Plenty of people want to go out with me." I looked at him steadily, thinking he'd answer with some retort about the intelligence of said 'plenty of people'.

Instead I was caught by surprise when he looked at me curiously and said quietly, "but you don't like any of them, do you?" It really wasn't a question.

I didn't answer; just looked at him. There wasn't anything I could say.

I tried anyway, though. "Well…I do. I mean, yes. But…well, I do, but…" Fail, Lily. Fail.

He didn't smirk, thank god. Well, not really, because instead of smirking he kept looking at me intently and slowly stood from the wall he was leaning on and moved forward, his hands loose by his sides.

I didn't move backwards, but I wanted to. The pressure was building, but I've always worked well under pressure.

Then again, I've never included Potter in that equation, so who knows how this'll work out. (Well, I know now, seeing as it's already happened, but THEN I didn't know.)

"You're wrong, you know." He said quietly. Damn him, and that quiet voice. Why do you think I always yell? Quiet scares me. Especially quiet from people who normally _aren't quiet_.

"About what." I cleared my throat loudly, hoping to deter him from his path. No such luck, of course.

He moved closer again. He was approximately five feet from me. We've been quite a bit closer during our arguments, but it was always because of the intensity of the arguments, not because of the intensity of, well, _other_ things.

Now I wasn't sure. We weren't arguing, so why was he moving closer? No, shit, he's even closer! Now is the time where I panic!

_No, don't panic, Lily. Just leave it be._

Wait, when did my inner voice come back? I _swear_ I got rid of that ages ago, but apparently it's back.

_I never went away, Lily. I've always been inside you, waiting until it was time._

Oh, so my inner voice is stalking me, now? That's convenient. Now it and James can just get together to figure out other ways to drive me to insanity.

_Oh, Lily, you've been insane for a long while now. You were just suppressing it. Teehee, here comes James! Get ready, Lily…_

Wait, what? Get ready for what?

How can you shake your inner voice violently? I think someone needs to figure out a way, because I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't shake the bejeezes out of my inner voice for being cryptic. I don't think you can, though. Why can't your inner voice manifest into a teddy bear or something so I can rip the stuffing out of it for being cryptic? What kind of inner voice is freaking mysterious? Mine, evidently…

Back to Potter.

He's looking at me intently again, but I think it's to make sure I'm not going to pass out or something. Understandable, considering I was staring off into space for several minutes with a weird look on my face.

Potter moves closer again, this time to place his hands on my shoulders and look into my eyes. "Lily, are you okay? You look kind of spaced out."

"What? Oh, I'm fine." I suddenly realized what was going on. "Oi, Potter, hands off!" I moved back a few steps, enough to remove his hands from my shoulders without actually touching them. I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle the pressure from actually touching his hands.

"Alright, calm down, Lily. I was just making sure you were okay. Don't need you fainting in the middle of a random abandoned corridor." He held his hands up in innocence.

"Yeah, whatever." I rubbed my arms, cold despite my insulated robes. "So are we done with this hallway? I'm pretty sure we'd have found something by now if there was anything for us to find." I needed to leave before he did anything stupid. Before _I_ did anything stupid.

"Sure." But he didn't move. He just looked at me. With one of _those_ looks. The look of doom – James style.

Ah! Don't look at me! I wanted to cry out. He's like Alice with her puppy dog look. I can't resist! Except this is a different kind of look. Alice looking at me doesn't make me feel all weird in the pit of my stomach, or make my knees go weak, or make me want to melt onto the floor.

"Um, Potter?" I took a step back involuntarily.

"James." He said quietly, taking a step closer.

"What?" I could hear my voice waver, and gulped. Wavering is not good. When I waver, that means I'm nervous, and when I'm nervous I panic. And when I panic, well…

"My name is James." He took another step.

"And?" I tried to move back, but met with a wall.

"James. Call me James, Lily." He was so close. Those freaking long legs and those freaking huge strides. _How did he get this close?_

I didn't answer, just gazed up at him.

"Lily." He whispered it, and brushed a red strand back.

"Yes?" I think by that point I was reduced to monosyllables.

I felt his hot breath on my face. "You're right."

"Oh?" Yup, definitely monosyllables.

"Yes. The halls certainly are drafty this time of year."

Was it me or did he just move closer? Was that even physically possible?

"Right," I sighed, and about fainted when he suddenly swooped in and kissed me!

Yes, he most certainly swooped in! Like a vulture! Like a vicious bird, robbing me of my dignity, sanity, and other –ity ending words!

But _after_ he swooped… well, I'm not sure what animal he was after that. Mostly because I wasn't actually coherent.

That _kiss_. I'll never mock James' fangirls again. (Maybe Sirius' still, but I've never snogged Sirius.) His lips are a gift from the _gods_. Absolutely magical.

It started out fairly slow, which was good because I was so startled I didn't respond for about ten seconds. James seemed pretty busy, though, with moving his arms down my shoulders, then back up to my neck…

I caught on eventually, though, and started kissing back. Then I started to panic again. How was I at kissing? Where should I put my hands? How far was he planning on going with this? And then there was the ever-present issue of the frigid stone walls. But then James pressed his lips a bit harder against mine and I got distracted again.

My hands flew from whatever position they had been in to snake around his neck and sink into his hair.

God, it was like silk! I ran one hand through it and used the other to trace small circles on his neck. Marlene mentioned once that it was a total turn on.

Evidently she was right, because a few wonderful moments later he made a small noise (I think it was a groan) and ran his tongue across my lips. I gasped slightly and he slipped in.

I think it was about here that I lost my memory, because the next thing we know we're in a dark, warm, enclosed space. And still snogging.

Ah, so _that's_ how it happened… Well here I am; on the floor of a dark broom closet, snogging James Potter.

You would think that I wouldn't be able to think other things while snogging James Potter, but you'd be wrong. Granted, there are times when I get a bit distracted. You know, he'll press a bit harder on just the right place, or he'll start rubbing circles on my hip bone… oh…

"James…" I sighed.

Then gasped again when he groaned and, well, I really don't think that that's – _ooh!_ – appropriate.. Shit, it's getting hot in here!

"Oh, _James_!"

_Fin._

A/N: It totally just occurred to me that there isn't actually any electricity/lights at Hogwarts. Oh well.

This is the first of my winter one-shots. I'm hoping to write as many as possible before New Year's! My friend Niobe (PolkaDotFeathers) is helping me with this little task, and hopefully we should be getting some great fics to you soon. ^_^

3 Happy holidays!

-Bub'les

Beefcake the Mightly

A.K.A. "Midnight Glory"

A.K.A.K.A. "Spice Muffin"


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